


Sex and Other Pleasures

by thievinghippo



Series: Anura Darzi [2]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-16 13:25:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7270042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thievinghippo/pseuds/thievinghippo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which MacCready doesn’t want to have sex, much to the Sole Survivor’s surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

 

He’s going to fucking throw up.

MacCready can’t remember the last time he was so goddamn nervous. Maybe when Lucy gave birth to Duncan? When all he could do was hold her fucking hand while she screamed in pain and the midwife worked her magic. Back when he was a stupid seventeen year old jackass suddenly responsible for the life of a tiny human being. Yeah, that was definitely worse. But this is fucking close.

They’re walking in Diamond City, MacCready at Anura’s six, looking for trouble. Not that he expects to find any in Diamond fucking City, but he’d rather be safe than sorry. Anura’s big time now. Most people know who she is, or at least recognize her from all the time she spends here, making contacts and setting up trade routes, anything she can do to make the lives of her settlers a little bit better.

It’s one of the reason he lo- likes her so much. She takes it fucking personally when someone messes with one of her settlements, just like he did with his kids back in Little Lamplight. No one messed with his kids. Just like no one messes with her settlements if they expected to keep their heads attached to their necks.

But they’re not in Diamond City for work, not today. _A night off_ , Anura said when she suggested they stop here in the middle of the afternoon instead of trucking to Hangman’s Alley. On paper, MacCready would fucking love to get a night to just relax. Maybe they spend some time shopping, or grabbing noodles and heading over to spend some time with Nick. It’s after that what’s bothering him.

They’ve been a couple, so to speak, for almost a month now. An amazing month, when they’ve been making out in half of the abandoned buildings they’ve scavved. And now they’re in Diamond City.

She walks up to the weapons shop instead of going straight to the hotel like he thought she would. MacCready stands next to her, arms crossed over his chest, trying to just fucking relax. He’s wound tighter than a goddamn spring and he still thinks he might fucking throw up.

Anura gives him this look, like she sees right through him, which knowing her, she actually might. Because the next thing she says makes him realize she knows _exactly_ what’s running through his head. “One room or two?”

It’s an out. And just the fact that she’s offering it to him makes his fucking heart grow two sizes. How does she _do_ that? How does she know just what to say? They shared rooms before they were even a couple, when he’d sleep on the floor or a chair. No point in changing now. MacCready stuffs his hands deep in his pockets, and says, his voice pinched, “Don’t waste caps on two.”

She nods and starts bartering with Arturo while MacCready goes over to the baseball shop, willing the contents of his fucking stomach to stay where they are. And then he blinks, and she’s standing next to him, too close and not close enough at the same time.

“Let’s grab a room before they run out,” she says quietly.

“Right,” he says, following like he always does.

They don’t say anything on the walk to The Dugout. He keeps his big fucking mouth shut, even though he tends to run it off all the time. She’s noticed, he knows she’s noticed, thanks to the way she keeps looking over her shoulder, but not meeting his eye. And before he even has a chance to prepare himself, they’re walking into room two, where MacCready’s finally going to have to face this head on, and goddamn, he’s gonna be sick.

She locks the door to the room - who wants to invite trouble, right? - and simply looks at him. Normally this is the time he’d be pressing her up against a wall, feeling the softness of her body next to his, and kissing her until he can’t fucking breathe. But now? Now all he wants is to be anywhere but here. And he needs to tell her before they start up again, and he just doesn’t know how to stay the damn words.

“What’s going-”

“I don’t want to have sex with you.”

The words rush out before he can stop them. His stupid brain just won’t shut up, and demands he tell her the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but. Now look what he’s done. Anura looks down at the floor, the color drained from her face, as she walks away from him, going to sit on the double bed.

Fuck. _Fuck._

Why does he have to ruin everything? “That came out wrong,” MacCready says quickly, rocking back on his heels, waving his hand, wishing he had a fucking cigarette, but he smoked his last one this morning, and didn’t think to stop by the general store to see if they had more.

“Oh really?” Anura says, looking up at him and meeting his gaze. He thought he knew her face, he thought he learned the contours and valleys. But looking at her now, MacCready understands that he’s just a fucking amateur when it comes to this woman. He has so much to learn.

“Of _course_ I want to have sex with you, you have no idea how much I want to,” he says, thinking about how he’s been picturing her face and her smile when he jerks off for months now. He’s half ready to tell her that, but decides she might not really appreciate the sentiment at this particular moment, so he keeps it to his fucking self.

Anura does that thing with her head, tilting it that certain way, when she’s thinking something through. Makes him feel like he’s being watched under one of those microscopes she’s always having him pick up in labs and hospitals. It’s not a feeling he likes. Not one fucking bit.

“You just don’t want to have sex.” And she sounds so fucking certain, like she’s figured him out, and MacCready wonders if she ever could. She’s certainly come closer than anyone else in the goddamn universe.

He takes off his hat, and carefully places it on the dresser. He fucking loves this hat. Lucy gave it to him, and one of his happiest memories with her and Duncan was just one random morning when they were eating breakfast. Lucy finished breastfeeding Duncan and plopped the hat on the kid’s head. It looked ridiculous on Duncan, who was only two at the time, but MacCready remembers thinking, so clearly, that he’d do whatever he could so Duncan wouldn’t have to be a merc like his old man.

Including not having sex with a woman he desperately wants to fuck.

“I can’t have another kid,” MacCready says, and finally he’s found his voice, and doesn’t sound like he’s fucking whining. “Not now. Some day, maybe. But now? When I can’t even take care of Duncan?”

 She leans back on her palms and takes a deep breath, and he tries to ignore the way her chest rises and falls. “And I have no desire to get pregnant,” Anura says, and because he’s an asshole, his brain latches on to the fact that she hasn’t said she doesn’t want a kid, either. That she just doesn’t want to get pregnant. How can she not want another kid, when hers is sixty years old and the bastard running the Institute? “But there are ways-”

His laughter sounds cruel, even to him. “Yeah, pulling out? That’s what Lucy and I tried. She was pregnant after three months.”

“You were, what, sixteen?” Anura asks. He nods, confirming. “And was she your first?” He nods again. You didn’t have sex in Little Lamplight. Those were the rules. You wanted to have sex? Time to get your ass to Big Town. “I’m sure you’ve got more control than you did then.”

“Control. Right.” MacCready runs his hands through his hair. It’s greasy, even for him. He needs a fucking wash. Somehow he needs to make her understand. Just as he tries to gather his wits, Anura pats the space next to her on the bed. And because if he’s saying no to sex, he doesn’t want to say no to anything else, he goes to her.

They sit side by side, their shoulders touching, and he feels himself fucking relaxing just by being close to her. “When was the last time you had sex?” she asks and her voice is soft.

He tenses, wanting to say it’s none of her goddamn business, but he knows she doesn’t ask questions needlessly. She’s got an agenda, whatever the hell it might be, and he might as well answer. “I don’t know,” he admits quietly, wondering if she’s gonna think he’s less of a man, knowing it’s been years since he’s gotten laid. “Maybe a month or so before Lucy died. We shared a room with two other families on a farmstead. Not like we could have sex whenever we wanted.”

The truth is, he barely even remembers sex with Lucy. They fucked like rabbits when they first met up again in Big Town, but once she got pregnant, she wasn’t interested all that much any more. And after Duncan was born? She didn’t even really want him to touch her for close to a year. That was fucking fun.

“What about you?” MacCready asks. He’s got to admit he’s curious, even if he has no right to be. He’s especially curious if she’s been with anyone since she stepped out of the vault. He doesn’t think she has - surely he’d hear about it through the grapevine - but you never know.

She flops back on the bed with a sigh. “Maybe a week before the war?”

MacCready decides to lay back down on the bed with her, and before his head touches the mattress, she’s slipped her hand into his. And all at once, he’s fucking exhausted. He’s told her the truth, and she still seems to like him enough to want to hold his hand. He’ll chalk that up to a win.

“So is all sex off the table?” she asks, turning onto her side.

He looks at her then, at the way she’s resting her cheek on her knuckles, with a slight smile on her face. “What do you mean?” MacCready thought he was pretty fucking clear when he said he didn’t want to have sex.

“There’s plenty of other things to do besides vaginal sex, you know,” Anura says, running her tongue over her lower lip. And suddenly both MacCready and his cock are paying close attention. “Oral sex can be a lot of fun. No real chance of getting pregnant there.” She places her hand on this inside of his thigh and he’s not sure if he remembers how to breathe. “And hand jobs or mutual masturbation…”

Truth be told, he hasn’t thought of any of those things, thinking only of one end game, and now that she’s listed those acts, he feels like a complete and utter fucking idiot. Granted, he’s not had much experience when it comes to oral, but damn, if he wouldn’t want to learn. And this would let them have some fun, and make sure he doesn’t bring another kid into this god forsaken world right now. “I think I could be persuaded…”

“I don’t want to pressure you into something you don’t want to do, Bobby,” she says, and just the way she says his name, like he’s not a man who’s only a hired gun, makes him close his eyes. Guilt swells up in his stomach momentarily, thinking of Lucy, wishing they could have had such an honest relationship. But no, he kept so much fucking from her, wanting her to think he was better than he actually was. Anura’s known everything from the start. It doesn’t make what they have better than what he had with Lucy, just different. Very different.

He turns on his side to mirror her. “Believe me, there’s no pressure. If we can do some of those other things, I am willing and able. So able.” Without thinking, he leans forward and gives her a quick kiss. He feels her hand on his waist, pulling him closer, and he can’t think of any reason why he he can’t be as close as he wants.

They kiss what seems like forever, until he’s completely relaxed, the type of relaxed he only feels when there’s a solid roof over his head, with a door that locks, and armed guards patrolling the city. They’re _safe_ , if just for one night, and that safety is making him realize just how fucking exhausted he really is. His mind’s been working a million miles a minute since she announced they were going to Diamond City, and now he can shut off his brain for a bit.

“Bobby?”

“Hmm?” With a start, MacCready realizes he must of fallen asleep. He rolls on his back and groans. “Did I really just…”

He looks at Anura, silently asking forgiveness, and the slight smirk on her lips grants it. “You really got yourself worked up over all of this, didn’t you?”

“Seems sort of stupid now, but yeah,” MacCready says, reaching up and pushing some of her hair behind her ear. “Worried you might look somewhere else… Told you. Stupid.”

She presses against him, then, resting her head on his shoulder. “I like you for more than just your cock, you know.”

He hums before kissing her on the forehead. Damn, he fucking missed this. Missed just being close to someone. And not even just for the sex. Just for fucking _comfort,_ feeling her body next to his, her leg draped over his, her fingers lightly drawing nonsense patterns on his chest. Part of him wants to tell her this, but he’s not ready. Not when he’s still getting used to the idea of being part of a couple, and especially when he’s still dealing with his own guilt about moving on from Lucy. So he turns to humor, and boxes up all the other feelings to deal with later. MacCready’s the goddamn champ of _later._ “Well, I’ll have you know it’s a very nice cock.”

He feels her smile through his shirt and doesn’t imagine her pressing closer against him. “I can’t wait to find out for myself,” she says, sliding the palm of her hand down his stomach. Just when he thinks maybe they’re going to get acquainted a hell of a lot more quickly than he thought, she pats his stomach twice. “But that’s for later. If we don’t get out of this room, I think you’re going to fall asleep again. Then I’m going to fall asleep. And then we’ll probably won’t wake up until tomorrow morning.”

Doesn’t seem like a horrible plan, actually. It’s rare they both get more than 5 hours of sleep a night. But then his stomach growls and it suddenly seems like an awful plan. They need some grub, a wash, then sleep, ideally in that order. And he needs a fucking cigarette.

Anura’s up on her feet, hand out towards him, before he even has a chance to answer. Without hesitating, he puts his hand in hers and lets her help him stand up. When he’s upright, MacCready wraps his arms around her waist and looks up at her. The moment he does, she starts bending her knees, trying to make herself shorter than him, but somehow he catches the moment she realizes she doesn’t need to do that, and straightens back up. That’s his girl.

MacCready stays still as she leans forward and kisses him, just slightly pressing her lips against his, and he wonders again just how he became the luckiest son-of-a-bitch in the Commonwealth. She breaks away, then, and he watches her walk to the door, watches the mask of _the boss_ slip over her features, and follows her outside the room.

Cause that’s the way it works. She leads and he follows.


	2. Chapter Two

The moment they enter the dugout, MacCready’s shoulders relax, just a bit, and instead of watching for threats out in Diamond City, he lets himself watch the sway of Anura’s hips. Alright, fine. Her ass. Who can blame him? She’s got a great looking ass.

She stops and turns, and because his dirty mind can only think of how great her ass fucking feels under the palms of his hands, and that’s with clothes on, she catches him staring. With a smirk, she asks, “Drink at the bar or bring a bottle to the room?”

“Do you really need to ask that question?” They can’t get to the room fast enough in his professional opinion.

She shrugs, and goes to the bar, leaning forward, and MacCready can tell she’s sticking out ass out just a bit on purpose. Goddamn, this woman is going to be the death of him. “Vadim, a bottle of whiskey, please,” she asks. “And do you have any buckets of hot water?”

“Yes, and yes, my friends. Hot water extra, I’m sure you understand.”

“How much extra?” MacCready asks out of habit. He’d rather bathe in cold water if it would cost him too many caps. Warm water is a luxury and Robert Joseph MacCready doesn’t need any fucking luxuries.

“For the lovely lady,” Vadim says, “I give bucket of hot water for fifteen caps.”

“Done,” Anura says just as MacCready says, “No fu- way.”

“Done,” Anura says again and MacCready shrugs. No skin off his back. She wants to spend her hard earned caps on hot water, she can. As long as they’re her caps.

As Vadim steps away from the desk, MacCready tries not to squirm as Anura stares at him. “Not even willing to use caps for hot water?” she asks.

He shrugs. “If I remember right, a bucket of cold water only runs five caps. That’s ten caps that stay in my pockets.”

Vadim walks back, holding a metal bucket. “Pail is hot, so I give you warning, no? Not my fault if you burn yourself.”

“Can I also get a bottle of your cheapest whiskey?” Anura asks. MacCready can’t help but snort. Gal knows him so well.

One pile of caps later, they’re walking back into room two, their little crumbling paradise for the night. She’s holding the whiskey while he has the bucket of water, and MacCready’s got to admit, the heat rising from the water warming his hand feels pretty damn good.

As he locks the door behind him, he hears the sound of whiskey pouring out of the bottle. “We being classy tonight, boss?” he asks. “Not drinking out of the bottle?”

“That was once, Bobby,” Anura says. “Just once.”

It’s a little strange, having her call him Bobby. Once they had _the talk_ in Goodneighbor, she told him she didn’t want to call him ‘MacCready’ any longer. Made sense, seeing as it felt strange to think of her as ‘the boss’ when they’re in a relationship. But then she admitted she had no idea what to call him.

There are some days, MacCready forgets he even has a first name. It’s one that’s rarely spoken out loud. Lucy called him ‘RJ’ and Duncan calls him ‘Pop.’ In typical Anura fashion, she tried out different nicknames until she found one she liked. So he had a week where she called him Rob, Bob, Bert, Robby, until she finally settled on Bobby. And to MacCready’s surprise, he likes the way it sounds.

She’s holding out the whiskey like an offering as he walks over to her. And maybe, just maybe, there’s a bit of a swagger in his walk. He’s about to have a drink, and more, with one of the most amazing fucking women in the Commonwealth. How he got here, he still doesn’t quite understand.

He puts the bucket of water down on a chair next to the dresser, where there are already a couple of washcloths and towels. Before all of this began, he’d always turn his back when she washed - and actually not peek, since he can be a goddamn gentlemen when he wants to be.

He takes the glass of whiskey from her, throwing it back in one fluid motion. It burns slightly on the way down, but damn if it doesn’t taste good. It’s always a bit of a gamble, asking for whiskey here at The Dugout. The bottles have no labels, and sometimes you get something good, but most of the time, something barely drinkable.

“Let’s not waste the hot water,” he says, putting down the glass.

“Now you’re talking,” Anura says, kicking off her boots.

MacCready knows he should start undressing himself, but damn. All he wants to do is watch her strip naked in front of him. She takes her pipboy off first, placing it carefully on the dresser. Then the jacket’s thrown to the floor.

She starts to unbutton the top button on her blouse, and MacCready can’t stand it any more. “Let me,” he says quietly, feeling all the blood in his brain rush directly to his cock. He takes a step towards her, and places his hands on her hips.

And because he can’t stand being this close to her without kissing her, MacCready lifts his head and presses his lips against hers. It’s a soft kiss, one that he wouldn’t mind lingering over, but Anura pulls away, and says, “The water.”

“Right,” he says, moving his hands to the bottom of her blouse, unbuttoning one button at a time. “Water.”

Finally he can push her blouse off her shoulders, leaving her only in a durable bra. Then before he can do anything else, she reaches behind her back and takes off her bra, revealing her breasts.

Based on the few pre-war dirty magazines he’s seen, he’s gathered that men used to lust after breasts. Women always covered them up in public and from what Anura’s told him, breastfeeding in public wasn’t allowed, which makes no fucking sense to him

Now, don’t get him wrong, she’s got very nice breasts. But he’s more interested in the main attraction, what’s between her legs. He gets a sense, though, that Anura’s waiting for some sort of reaction from him? So he kisses her again, open-mouthed, sliding his tongue between her lips.

They break apart, and she takes a sip of her own whiskey, while he unbuckles her belt. As MacCready places his palms on her hips, sliding her trousers and underwear down, Anura grabs his scarf with both hands, holding him in place, their eyes locked. Without breaking that gaze, she steps out of her pants, standing naked as the day she was born in front of him.

It would seem rude to look down right now, but goddamn he wants to see her cunt. But somehow, probably because he’s the strongest fucking person on the planet, MacCready keeps eye contact as she unbuttons his duster, followed by his button-down shirt.

He feels like he should say something - how long are they going to fucking stare at each other anyway? - but there’s something to be said about the way she pushes his duster and shirt off his shoulders. _Fuck_ , she’s trying to kill him. That’s the only explanation.

Well, right now, MacCready can’t think of a better goddamn way to die. She breaks eye contact - fucking _finally_ \- and he looks between her legs, which are sadly pressed together, so he can’t see much other than dark, thick curls. But he loses concentration when he feels the warm wash cloth against his chest. “Trying to make me look pretty, huh?”

Anura lets out a laugh. “You always look pretty,” she says, taking off his hat with her free hand. While she washes his chest, and he’s not going to admit to her that the warm water feels really fucking good, MacCready unbuckles his trousers, before remembering he’s still wearing his damn boots. He holds up a finger, silently asking her to wait and crouches down, ignoring how his cock is straining against his underwear.

She clearly doesn’t want to waste the warm water and he can hear her cleaning herself as he unlaces his boots. He’s struggling with the laces; he keeps those fuckers tied tight, not willing to risk tripping over a lace in the field, like a buddy of his back in Big Town. Guy almost got himself killed because of a shoelace.

But finally the boots come off, and just as he’s about to stand up, he realizes her cunt is _right there._ “Gimme the wash cloth,” he says, looking up at Anura.

She hands him the cloth and MacCready starts washing her thighs, eyes fixed between her legs. Her skin is soft, almost ridiculously so, and he wonders how long that will last, how long it will be before the Commonwealth takes that away from her. She’s already given up her long hair, something she said when they first met she would never do. But that’s the fucking Commonwealth for you. It takes and takes until you fucking break. And it’s never a matter of if, simply a matter of when.

He washes her calves, even her feet, before handing the wash cloth back to her. A moment later, she hands him the cloth again and he takes a breath, placing one hand on her hip and sliding the other up the inside of her thigh. She lets out a small gasp when his fingers reach the curls between her legs, but stays perfectly still as he washes her cunt. Once he’s done, MacCready can’t help himself, steadying himself with her waist and pressing his lips gently against those curly hairs. Breathing in deeply, he smells soap and her wetness, and it’s almost too much, she’s just so fucking _clean._

“You’re beautiful,” MacCready says softly, placing the cloth back in her hands. Of course, that’s when he has to ruin the fucking moment, by standing up too quickly. He forgot his trousers were around his damn ankles and he stumbles forward, his face smushed against her belly.

“Take your pants off, first?” Anura asks with a smirk.

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” he says, kicking off his trousers so that he’s naked. He stands, and decides it’s ridiculous that they’re not kissing. Thankfully that’s an easy enough problem to fix. They start to kiss, tongues gliding against each other when suddenly there’s pressure around the base of his cock. She’s stroking him now, and it’s been so fucking long since he’s had someone else’s hand on his cock, MacCready worries he’s going to come. And wouldn’t that just be great? “Maybe hold off on that a bit.” And the look on her face, he adds, “Not that it didn’t feel good, that felt amazing, I’m just not ready…”

Instead of answering, she kisses him lightly as she dips the cloth into the water. The water isn’t nearly as warm against his skin as before, but it’s still clean, rad-free water. So as Anura kneels down - and what a fucking trip that is, having her kneel in front of him - MacCready scoops a handful and pours it over his head. She doesn’t need to touch his greasy ass hair. The bar of soap isn’t even close to clean any longer, but it’s still soap, right? He rubs it over his hair, hoping to get out the worst of the dirt and grease.

“All clean,” Anura says, and MacCready has to clench his teeth as she drags her fingers up his legs. “Why don’t you sit down?”

There’s a chair behind him, so he takes a step back and sits, ignoring the way his cock brushes up against his stomach. He’s hard, harder than he remembers being in a long time, and he desperately needs something, _anything_ before he goes fucking mad. She kneels in front of him and it doesn’t take a fucking genius to figure out what she’s gonna do. Pressing his feet hard against the floor, MacCready takes a breath and watches Anura take him into her mouth.

The warmth and the wetness makes his whole body twitch and she pulls away, looking up. “You okay?” she asks quietly, her hands gently rubbing his thighs. He shakes his head, it’s too much and not enough at the same time. Just all of this, being in a locked room, free to do whatever they want to each other…

How can MacCready explain to a woman who once owned an entire _house_ that he’s never had a room of his own? Before she got pregnant, he and Lucy fucked quietly in a sleeping bag at night while other people slept. Or maybe, if they were lucky, in the back room of the healing station where she worked. Sitting up on a chair like this and getting a blow job? That was a fucking fantasy as far as he’s concerned.

But it’s not fantasy now. This is real. MacCready can hardly believe it’s fucking real, but it is. “I’m good,” he says a little louder than he planned.

She nods, and he can’t look away as she takes her hand and puts it between her legs. A moment later, she’s stroking his cock her hand, using her own goddamn wetness as lube. It’s the hottest fucking thing he’s ever seen in his life and before he knows it, he’s thrusting weakly into her fist. He can already feel the pressure in his balls and there’s no way he’s going to last much longer.

And when Anura leans forward and sucks the head of his cock -  _hard_ \- he’s done. Hands gripping the arms of the chair, knuckles almost white, MacCready starts to come. The pressure starts at the base of his spine and when he realizes that Anura’s actually sucking him off, he feels so damn good it almost starts to hurt.

He’s practically boneless in the chair once she’s done, breathing hard and his mind is fucking clear for once. Maybe he should be embarrassed he didn’t last longer, but it’s been more than three years since he’s been with someone. And besides, Anura doesn’t seem to mind. He leans forward in the chair a bit, skimming a knuckle against her cheek, tracing a light scar. He doesn’t remember when she got that one.

When she starts to stand, MacCready pulls her onto his lap, one hand on her belly, the other one her breast. Anura lets out a laugh, a real fucking laugh, and says, “Bobby, we’ll break the chair.”

“Let it break,” he says with a snort, sliding his fingers into the curls between her legs. She’s still wet and he basically decides if he could touch her like this for the rest of his life, he could die a happy man.

“Now I know you’ve lost your mind,” Anura says, slightly breathless as she pushes her cunt into his hand. “They’ll charge us for it, you know.”

Okay, so MacCready might be gone, but he’s not _that_ far gone. “Bed,” he says, as they stand up. Luckily, the bed isn’t far and before he knows it, she’s lying on her back, and he’s on his side right next to her. Her legs are spread and he’s suddenly nervous. Far more nervous than he thought he’d be. Three years wouldn’t make him forget everything he knew, right? Not like he was a goddamn Casanova or anything before that.

_Shit_ , it would be so much easier to simply climb on top of her and just fuck instead. It’s what his cock would clearly want once he’s reloaded. But then he thinks of how quickly he came. No way would he have been able to pull out in time. He’s doing the right thing, he’s sure of it. Hopefully his cock will remember that.

Maybe he’s been still too long, because Anura props herself up on her elbows and kisses him. It’s a soft kiss, not demanding at all, and suddenly all the urgency he felt is gone. They can take their fucking time.

“Had enough?” she whispers. “We can stop now, if you want.”

“What? No,” MacCready says at once. A hundred caps couldn’t get him to stop. He wants - he _needs_ \- to see her fall apart under his hands. That’s not selfish, right? It’s simply time to pay back the favor. He’s a man who _always_ pays his debts. And this is one he can’t wait to pay forward. “Just got lost in thought for a second. I’m back. Promise.”

She nods, and takes his hand, guiding it between her legs. “Let me show you what I like.” Her voice is doing that breathless thing again, and fuck, it’s doing things to him that he doesn’t even understand.

Maybe she’s more worked up than he thought, because it doesn’t seem to take very long before she’s muttering swears under her breath as she pushes her cunt into his hand. “I’m close, Bobby,” she says. “So fucking close.” He can’t take his goddamn eyes off of her face as he works her with his hand. Her own eyes are shut tight as she starts thrusting her hips hard. “Right there, oh _fuck_ , right there.”

One thing MacCready is really fucking good at is following orders. So he doesn’t move his hand from that spot and adds more pressure. Almost at once, she arches her back as she moans his name. Her hips are still moving erratically, and he’s determined to make her come as long as he can, because this? Seeing the tension and stress drain from Anura’s face? This he could watch forever.

And then she’s still, a smile on her face. “That felt…” she starts to say before trailing off.

Now he’s curious. “You can’t leave it at that. So how’d that feel?” he asks, bringing his hand, the one covered in her wetness to his lips. He licks his fingers clean one at a time, reveling at her taste, slightly tart and salty, on his tongue.

“Pretty damn amazing,” she says, and her breathing is pretty much back to normal. “Much better than leaning against a tree with my hands down my pants. You ever wonder why it would take me so long to go to the bathroom sometimes?”

“Wait, what?” MacCready says, thinking of the times they’d be out in the Commonwealth. She always took forever to go to the bathroom in the morning. “You were jerking off all those times?”

“Maybe,” she says with a sly smile on her face. “Better excuse than shaving.”

Of _course_ she fucking knew. “Well, let me help out next time,” he says, closing his eyes. A comfortable silence settles over them, and MacCready wonders how in the world he’s going to stay awake.

“It’s still early,” Anura says, moving to her side, so her back’s flush with his chest. “Wanna nap for a bit?”

“You always have the best ideas,” he says, wrapping his arm around her waist.

They’re in a locked room with an actual pillow under their heads. Life, for once, has decided to be kind. The treacherous part of his brain asks _for how long?_ Kissing the back of her neck, MacCready tells that treacherous part of his brain to shut the fuck up. And in no time at all, he’s fast asleep.


	3. Chapter Three

Of course it’s the middle of the fucking night when he wakes up. But MacCready quickly realizes that he’s not the only one awake.

“Two in the morning,” she says, sounding far too alert for this time of night as she stretches her arms over her head.

MacCready yawns, wondering if she wants to play a bit more, something he absolutely wouldn’t mind doing, but she makes no move towards him. She’s lying back on the pillows, one arm behind her head, and she doesn’t even look self-conscious about being naked. He remembers the first few weeks after she hired him, she would never raise her arms or show her legs, saying she was embarrassed about the hair and not being able to shave. But look at her now. There’s a small tuft of hair showing on her armpit and her legs are covered with fine hairs. And she doesn’t seem to even care. That’s his girl.

“What are you looking at?” Anura says.

The answer is fucking obvious, so he doesn’t even bother, and instead leans over and kisses her. He’s not completely awake at this point, so the kiss is slow and quiet. When he breaks away, MacCready rolls to his side, pressing up against her. “I could use a cigarette,” he mutters into the crook of her neck. But he’s comfortable and warm and for once his desire _not_ to move outweighs his need for a cigarette.

“That’s not a bad idea,” she says, sitting up before he can stop her. As she walks to his duster, MacCready appreciates the view, enjoying the roundness of her ass, the stretch marks on her sides, and the strength in her shoulders. She’s definitely earned some muscle mass in her shoulders since they’ve met; you’d almost have to, toting around a shotgun all day like she does.

“Matches should be with cigs,” he says as he sits up, leaning against the wall. He almost didn’t buy the pack when they went out for dinner earlier, offended at the 2 cap price, but now he’s glad he did. She doesn’t smoke often, but he likes to watch when she does. “Inside front pocket.”

Nights like this won’t come often. Most of their nights will be in settlements or abandoned buildings, where the most they can hope for is a quick hand down each other’s pants. Getting to lay in bed naked? Maybe in Sanctuary, where she’s built a little shack for herself and whenever they want to spend the caps for a room in Diamond City or Goodneighbor. But how often will that be?

His chest tightens when he thinks about caps. Just what the fuck is he saving up for now? For so long, all he could think about was buying his way out of the Gunners, and then spending his caps on trying to get a cure for Duncan. What’s he need caps for now? What’s his goddamn purpose if Duncan is cured and caps aren’t keeping MacCready going from one day to the next?

_Shit._ Hell of a time for an existential crisis.

“Bobby?” Anura’s standing at the side of the bed, holding out the cigarette. “You okay?”

She hands him the cig and MacCready takes his time lighting it, willing his fucking head to screw on straight. Things are good, too damn good, and here’s he ready to fuck it all up. “Been thinking,” he says quietly. “Maybe I should go see Duncan, see that the cure worked with my own eyes.”

 She gets back in bed with him, but not before grabbing an ashtray and placing it on his thigh. “That’s not a bad idea,” she says, taking the cigarette from him. “How long’s it been since you’ve seen him?”

“Almost two years.” _Fuck,_ how has it been that long? “He was four when I left. He’ll be six in a couple of months.”

“How would you get down there?”

MacCready latches on immediately that she said ‘you’ and not ‘we.’ He doesn’t know what to think of that. He wants to think that he’ll bring Duncan up here eventually. But two weeks ago, they also thought Shaun was a ten year old boy and look how fucking great that turned out. She’s still not talked much about her trip to the Institute, when he watched her disappear and the fucking machine exploded. It was all he could do not to slam Tinker Tom to the ground and demand he bring her back. Hours later, she appeared again, pockets full of stolen goods and a vial of serum for that damn scientist. At least he can trust Valentine to get her to the Glowing Sea and back again safely.

“Sign up to guard Daisy’s caravan, probably. They can always use an extra gun,” MacCready says, the plan forming in his mind. Anura needs to go to the Glowing Sea and do all sorts of shit for the Railroad that won’t make them any fucking caps. Maybe while she’s off playing hero, _not earning caps,_ he can go see Duncan. Would Duncan even remember him? MacCready’s written him once a week for almost two years, sending the letters six or seven at a time. And three months ago, when he got a letter from the Lawsons, who took care of Duncan, there was a short note from the kid himself. Terrible handwriting, but what five year old knew how to write? MacCready keeps the note in the inside pocket of his duster, to make sure it stays safe.

She takes the cig from his hand and bring it to her lips. “It takes, what? Two weeks to get down there?”

“A cavaran would be more like three,” he says. “Damn Brahim walk too slow.”

“And then I’m assuming if you’re making the trip, you’ll want to spend as much time with Duncan as you can,” she says softly.

“Well, yeah,” MacCready says. There’s something in her voice that he doesn’t like and just doesn’t fucking get. He reaches around her and puts the ashtray on the nightstand before looking at her straight in the eye. “But then I’ll be back.”

She looks away first and that’s something that never fucking happens. “You don’t have to come back, Bobby, not for me.”

He looks at his hands, trying to wrap his head around what she’s saying. “You don’t want me back?” Just the thought makes his chest tighten. They’ve found something special, here, he’s sure of it, and he’s not ready to see this end.

“Of course I do, but I’m not the important person in this equation, Bobby.”

“You’re a real piece of work, aren’t you? You let me come. _In your mouth_ , and now you want to send me away,” he says, shaking his head, trying to ignore the knot in his stomach, this feeling of fucking failure that no matter what he does, he’s going to disappoint someone. He never told Lucy the truth about how he brought caps home, he has to struggle every goddamn fucking day to keep his promise to Duncan, and now in Anura’s eyes, he’s a shitty father.

She brings her knees up to her chest, and he can feel the heat from her glare. “How is that fair? You brought up the idea first. I’m simply asking the logical question, if you go back down there, _why would you leave?_ _”_ He’s surprised when she reaches out and grabs his hand and tries not to be distracted when she starts rubbing her thumb against his palm. When she speaks again, there’s no censure or anger in her voice. “You deserve the chance to be Duncan’s father.”

_Shit._ He pinches the bridge of his nose, suddenly fucking getting it, really getting it. The Institute stole her chance to be Shaun’s mother. He’s got to imagine she doesn’t understand why he’s not with Duncan right now. How can he explain? It’s not that he doesn’t want to be with his kid. But he knows Duncan’s safe. Anura isn’t. Not yet. And somehow she’s become just as important to him as Duncan. MacCready can’t just go back down to the Capital Wasteland and never see her again. He _can_ _’t._

“If he’s healthy enough, maybe I could bring him up to the Commonwealth,” he asks, and he almost wants to punch himself in the face at the eagerness in his voice.

“Not yet,” Anura says sharply and there’s something about her tone that chills him. “Bobby… things are… things are going to get bad before they get better. You’ve stayed away from the Railroad stuff-”

“Cause there ain’t any caps in it,” MacCready reminds her. And if he’s eventually going to bring Duncan up here, he’ll need caps. A lot of them. Funny how quickly his crisis came and went. Now he has a new goal.

He’s transfixed as she puts the palm of her hand against his cheek. “I’m going to tear the Institute apart for what they’ve done,” she says softly. The fact that there’s no malice in her voice is fucking terrifying. “Once that’s over and done? Absolutely, get him up here. I can’t wait to meet him.”

Funny how he never really thought about Duncan and Anura meeting. Would they like each other? Or would Duncan be upset that someone else is in MacCready’s life? Duncan was only three when Lucy died. MacCready’s not even sure how much the kid remembers of her at this point. And what about Anura? Would she resent Duncan for not being Shaun? “Sounds like the Capital Wastelands might be the safest place for him right now.”

She nods. “But after…”

“He could stay in Sanctuary, right? When we’re out on business?” MacCready asks, a picture already forming in his mind. She’s got a small shack for herself. It’s big enough for the two of them, but they could easily add on a small room for Duncan. And somehow, just realizing that he’ll be able to provide his kid with a room of his own makes his heart ready to fucking burst. “Bet Codsworth wouldn’t mind looking after him. That’s what he’s programmed for, right?”

Her eyes widen and her hand goes over her mouth. What the fuck did he say to set her off? “Anura?” he asks gently.

“Codsworth doesn’t know about Shaun yet,” she says. “He thinks Shaun is ten.”

“So?”

“How am I going to tell him?” she asks, and to MacCready’s surprise, there’s tears in her eyes. He’s not seen her cry once since this whole damn thing began. Even after she transported - and how the fuck he can even say that word without losing his shit at the idea, he has no clue - back from the Institute, she wanted to go directly to the Railroad. Maybe she’s taking a page from his book, and pushing it all away for later.

“Wait, you’re seriously worried how that bucket of bolts will react?” MacCready says, running a knuckle down her arm, trying to distract her a bit. Whatever they are to each other in this room, outside it she’s still The Boss, and he doesn’t know how he feels about her crying over a fucking robot.

She nods, leaning her head back against the wall. “He sorts through all the junk I bring back to Sanctuary, Bobby. He’s picked out toys and games he thinks Shaun will like.” MacCready blinks. He can’t decide if that sort of loyalty is enduring or creepy. “Codsworth was devastated when I told him Shaun might be ten. And now I have to tell him he’s sixty?”

Still doesn’t explain why she’s getting weepy. Over Codsworth. “Why do you care so much?”

Without any warning, she reaches over the side of the bed and picks up her long sleeve blouse, and starts to put it on. “I’m cold,” she says.

Before she can close the first button, MacCready pushes the blouse off her shoulders. “I’ll keep you warm,” he says, trying not to wince at the fucking cheesiness of the line. He expects some sort of resistance, but she doesn’t offer any, which is fine by him, because he’d much rather they just be naked when they have the chance. But in case she’s really chilly, he brings up the blanket at the bottom of the bed and pulls it over their laps. “Better?”

“Better,” she says, laying down on her side, and bringing the blanket up over her shoulders.

He lays down, mirroring her position, and because he’s still just fucking curious, asks the question again. “Why do you worry about Codsworth’s feelings?”

“I didn’t even want him,” Anura says with a shake of her head. “I was on maternity leave. I had plenty of time, but Nate insisted. He really wanted Codsworth. And now…” MacCready sees an actual tear on her cheek and now he’s really fucking worried. But then she looks up again, and there’s a slight smile on her face. “It’s just good, you know? To have someone else in this world besides me who remembers Nate.”

Well, damn. That’s not what he expected, not at all. But then he thinks about it, really thinks about it, and maybe understands. Yeah, Lucy is gone, but she touched so many lives, people are going to remember her. Duncan’s going to remember her, MacCready will damn well make sure of that. And maybe some day, Duncan might have kids of his own - MacCready will also make damn well sure it’s not in ten fucking years because he will _not_ be a grandfather at thirty-three - and tell his kids stories about his mom. And those hypothetical kids - who will absolutely not be born in ten years - will know Lucy. She’ll be remembered.

Anura can tell Shaun about her husband, and there’s no fucking way she won’t, not after all the hoops the kid made her jump through so they could find each other. But Shaun will be dead in twenty years. And then once she dies, at a rip old age if MacCready has anything to say about it, who’s gonna remember the guy then? A Mister Handy robot. That’s who.

“You can tell me about him, if you want,” MacCready offers, tightening his arm around Anura and nuzzling the shaved side of her head. The hair’s started to grow in a bit, leaving her hair soft against his cheek.

“Yeah? I might take you up on that,” she says quietly. “You can talk about Lucy, too, you know. Like you said, two sides of the same coin.”

He nods and looks over at the cigarette in the ashtray. It’s long turned to ash, and even though he could use another, he doesn’t want to move. He tries picturing himself talking about Lucy to Anura. Maybe someday.

“Bobby, you’re about to fall asleep, aren’t you?” she says, wrapping her arm around his waist.

She’s not wrong, that’s for fucking sure. This whole day has been exhausting from start to end. But their conversation doesn’t quite feel finished. “So tomorrow maybe we head to Goodneighbor and I’ll talk to Daisy about signing up for a caravan,” he says. She usually sends one every month or so. Part of him hopes it will be sooner rather than later. The other part wants just the opposite.

Anura nods, and tucks her head under his chin. “I’ll miss you,” she tells him and he just by the sound of her voice, he knows it’s fucking true.

“I’ll miss you, too,” he says, his mouth suddenly dry. He wants to tell her the truth, the whole truth, about just how much he cares for her, that fuck it, he _loves_ her, but that almost seems cruel. To drop a bomb like that and then be gone for a few months. And it will be a few months, he realizes, his decision made.

Yes, he needs to spend the time he can with Duncan, but if shit’s going down in the Commonwealth, MacCready needs to be there for Anura, too. What kind of example will he set for his son if he simply turns and runs until the fighting is over? That’s not how life works. So he’ll go down to the Capital Wastelands, spend some time with Duncan, and then come back. Then once the fucking dust has settled and Anura’s finished toppling the Institute, maybe they could both go down and bring Duncan up here _together._

So he’ll keep his words and thoughts to himself until he sees her again. And with that thought, that it’s going to fucking hard not to simply tell her his feelings, MacCready drifts off to sleep.


	4. Chapter Four

He’s hard as a rock when he wakes up in the morning, of course he fucking is.

Anura’s still sleeping, which doesn’t surprise him. He’s had a lifetime of being a light sleeper. A comfortable mattress and a lock on the door won’t change that. Turning to his side, he gives himself a minute to look at Anura, who’s on her back, mouth open, and snoring like a fucking Brahmin.

It’s almost cute, and goddamn, he can’t stop smiling.

“Hey,” MacCready whispers as he nuzzles her neck. “Wake up, sleepy head.” They’ve got to be out of the room by nine or Vadim charges an extra five caps. Now that’s he’s working towards a goal again, no way is he wasting caps because they couldn’t get out of bed. His hard-on will go away at some point.

Her eyes flutter open and the next thing he knows, her hand is around his cock. “Morning,” she whispers back as she cups his balls. He swallows and glances at the clock. It’s already eight-thirty in the damn morning, meaning they slept for more than ten hours last night. No wonder they’re fucking frisky.

“We don’t have the room for much longer,” MacCready says, trying to control his breathing, but she’s just squeezed the base his cock, and _damn_ did that feel good.

Anura glances at the clock and wrinkles her nose. The pressure on his cock eases, much to his dismay, but then she throws the covers off of both of them. She kisses him, open-mouthed, before pulling back with grin on her face. “Come on,” she says, putting her hand between her legs. “Race you.”

MacCready lets out a laugh and spits in the palm of his hand. Fisting his cock, he says, “Oh, you’re fu- you’re on.”

This time, instead of watching her face, MacCready stares at her cunt, trying to memorize her movements for later. But damn, it’s hard to do, thanks to the sounds she’s making. Before long, he can’t do anything but close his eyes and listen to her moan, focusing on the way his fist feels around his cock. And when she moans his name, he’s fucking gone, and he milks his cock as come splashes on his stomach.

It takes Anura a few more minutes before she comes, and what a beautiful sight that is, the way she presses one hand down on her belly and thrusts into her hand, all while whimpering and digging her heels into the bed. Once she’s done, MacCready grabs the wash cloth off of the nightstand and cleans up his spunk. When that’s taken care of, he throws his arm over her waist. “So did I technically win there? Or lose?”

“Is this a competitive streak I’m seeing?” Anura says with a laugh.

“Dam-darn right it is,” MacCready says. He glances at the clock. Fifteen minutes left. She’s dragging her fingers over his shoulder, making him shiver. Fuck, he doesn’t want to leave the bed and this room and face the cold, hard reality of the Commonwealth, face the cold, hard reality that soon he’ll be leaving Anura behind. There’s no time for pity, so once more, he stuffs it away for _later._ “Come on, let’s get dressed.”

Thirteen minutes later, they’re in the hallway, closing the door behind them. He slips into the role of hired mercenary easily, walking a few steps behind Anura - decidedly _not_ staring at her ass, not when they’re about to leave the safety of Diamond City, She gives Vadim the key, and just like that, vacation is over. MacCready hoists his pack further up on his shoulders and the moment they’re outside the gates of Diamond City, he has his gun in his hands.

Back when she first hired him, Anura had basically no idea where the fuck she was going, one of the reasons she stumbled into Goodneighbor all those months ago instead of making her way to Diamond City. Then, she’d stop every so often and ask him for directions. But now she doesn’t hesitate, and takes them to Goodneighbor, not the quickest way, but definitely the safest.

When he can make out the neon lights in the distance, his fucking heart starts to speed up. No point getting worked up over something he can’t control, but here he is, getting nervous like he can’t believe. She slows down as they near the entrance of the city and looks back at him over her shoulder. “Made good time,” she says in a voice he can’t quite understand.

Of course they made good time. For once she didn’t charge into the thick of things. They only passed one gang of raiders, and even before MacCready could get down on one knee to line up a shot, Anura tugged on his duster and shook her head. He wonders how many caps they passed up on.

The guards let them in without a second glance, one of the perks of being well-known. Thankfully, Anura doesn’t hesitate, and heads right to Daisy’s store. Suddenly, that feeling from yesterday, that he was going fucking throw up, returns with a vengeance.

“MacCready,” Daisy drawls. “And what’s my favorite mercenary up to?”

He hasn’t seen Daisy since he handed her the cure, trusting her to get it to Duncan safely. “Good news, Daisy,” he says, leaning on the counter. “That cure worked. Blue boils are gone. They tell me he’s still weak, but better than he was.”

“Oh, that’s great news. I’m glad to hear it,” Daisy says. “But I’m pretty sure you didn’t hightail it all the way up to Goodneighbor to tell me how he’s doing.”

Damn, she has his number. MacCready looks at Anura, who nods and gives him a small smile. Somehow, that’s enough. “Was thinking about going down to the old homestead for a bit,” he tells Daisy. “Thought I might sign up to guard a caravan. You know when one might be leaving?”

There. The words have been said, and all he has to do is wait for an answer.

Daisy drums her fingers on the counter, and MacCready thinks he’s about to go mad unless she says something, and quick. “You know, you might be able to get me out of a jam.” She tilts her head. “I’ve got a courier I need to send down to Jamaica Plains. Caravan’s started to use that homestead as a starting point. I thought to hire someone to send with the guy, but you could take him. Caravan isn’t leaving until my guy is there.”

Almost sounds too good to be true. He doesn’t mind doing Daisy a favor, especially since it’s one that basically evens out the scale. “When do you want him to leave?” he asks.

“Tomorrow,” Daisy says and MacCready’s stomach drops.

Tomorrow. Of _course_ , it’s fucking tomorrow. He glances at Anura, who has her arms wrapped around herself and is looking very pointedly at a corner and not towards him at all. He gets it. She’s letting him make the decision and not putting in her own two caps. But in the end, there’s really not a decision to be made. Who knows when he’ll be able to meet up with a caravan going to the Capital Wastelands again? “I’m in,” MacCready says, with a crisp nod, his voice sound far more enthusiastic than he actually feels.

“You’ve just made my entire week,” Daisy says. “Come by the shop around seven am. I’d like you to get an early start.”

“I’ll be there,” MacCready says, pushing himself away from the counter. “Seven am it is.”

He touches his finger to the brim of his hat, a move he’s stolen from Valentine, and turns around, heading to a nearby bench. Anura’s right behind him and as they sit down, he has to keep himself from reaching for her hand. There’s no place for that in Goodneighbor.

“I didn’t expect it to so soon,” Anura says softly, crossing her legs and leaning back on the bench. “But that’s good. It’s good. Really, when you think about it, it’s a good thing. You’ll get to see Duncan that much sooner.”

She’s talking quickly, something she tends only to do when she’s nervous. _Fuck_ , all he wants to do is hold her, and tell her everything will work out. But he’s a fucking realist, and who knows if that’s true? She’s taking on the goddamn Institute and he’ll be guarding Brahmin with their backs full of cargo. Both are dangerous in their own way.

“I think I’ll head to the Railroad HQ tomorrow after you leave,” she says. “I should be able to make it there from here pretty easily by myself.”

“Maybe try staying in the shadows for once?” MacCready says, thinking of the way she charges into fights with that shotgun of hers. She starts to roll her eyes, but he takes her hand, their intertwined fingers hidden by his duster. “For me? Please?”

There’s a slight hitch in her voice when she answers, “Well, since you asked so nicely. And Bobby?” She squeezes his hand and he doesn’t fucking know how he’s going to let go tomorrow. “If you get down there… If you get down there and decide you don’t want to come back up, I’ll understand.”

His chest tightens, but he now he understands what she’s saying. It’s easier to hear now, when the sun is shining and there’s a slight breeze hitting his cheeks, then it was when they were naked in bed, and it’s definitely easier to hear now than it would be tomorrow morning, when they’ll both be bleary from sleep. “I don’t think that will happen,” he says, wanting to be honest. “But if it does, I’ll find a way to let you know.”

“Good,” she says, taking her hand from his and standing up. MacCready stands up, too, so they’re looking at each other, face to face. She really does have the prettiest goddamn eyes. “So I’m thinking we get a room at the Rexford and basically stay in bed all day.”

As wonderful as that sounds, MacCready’s actually got a shit ton of work to make sure he’s ready for tomorrow. He needs to check over his weapons, find a gift for the Lawsons, to thank them for taking care of his kid, more importantly, find a gift for Duncan, patch his spare shirt, try to find extra stim packs and food that will fit easily in his pack. “I need to do some shopping first, and besides,” he says, digging his hands into his pockets, “The Rex charges you for two days if you check in before six o’clock.”

She shrugs, and it’s the slightly dismissive shrug of someone who’s never really had to worry about caps, a feeling he can’t even begin to imagine. “That’s fine. I’ll pay for it, Bobby, don’t worry.”

With that, Anura turns and starts to walk towards the Rex. “Wait,” he says, catching up to her easily, hardly believing what he’s about to say, but fair is fair. “I’ll be using the room, too. We can split it.”

He thinks of the caps, and well, that’s fucking love for you. And from the look on her face, MacCready wonders if she’s realizing the same thing. She pushes her hair behind her ear, a shy little smile on her lips. “Keep your caps, Bobby. Consider it a going away present.”

It’s the way she looks down at the ground after she speaks that makes him realize what’s she’s telling him. She doesn’t even need to say the fucking words. She loves him. It takes him a moment to try to calibrate this new world of his. He doesn’t know how or why he’s been lucky enough to gain the love of two amazing women in his life. But there it is. And when she looks up at him again, MacCready gets that he’s happy. Even though he needs to leave her tomorrow, for once in his life, he’s truly fucking _happy._ “Appreciate it,” he says softly.

They walk to the Rexford in silence, MacCready staying a few paces back. Anura deals with the hotel clerk, while he looks for any sort of threat. He doesn’t like the Rexford nearly as much as The Dugout. Too big. Too many places to hide. Lots of sniper perches, though. It was a place he rarely came to when he stayed in Goodneighbor, before he met Anura. Back then, he’d sneak into a back room of the Third Rail for a couple of hours of sleep a few times a day. No way in hell was he paying for a hotel every night back then.

It takes almost no time at all before she hands him a key. “Figure you’ll want to come and go most of the afternoon,” she says.

“Good plan.” Her plans usually are.

Once they’re out of sight of the lobby, Anura slips her hand in his. _Fuck,_ this is going to be hard, being separated, and especially knowing she’s going to try to be a double agent, like in some of those damn comics he read as a kid. There are so many ways things could go sideways. He stops, trying to push the thoughts out of his head, but he needs to say this. “If something happens to you,” he starts saying.

“Bobby-”

“I’m being serious here. If you get hurt, like seriously hurt, or if something worse happens because of this Railroad…” He’s about to say nonsense, but then he stops. The Railroad means something to her. And if truly means something, it’s not nonsense. “If you…” He can’t even bring himself to say the word _die._ “I don’t trust Deacon for a second, but he fu- worships the ground you walk on. Have him send me a message. He’d do that for you.”

She nods and MacCready starts walking again, a bit of weight off his shoulders. At least if something happens to her, he wouldn’t be wondering fucking _what if_ for the rest of his life.

Then they reach the room. They had a good month together at least before reality came and knocked on their fucking door. Who knows what they’ll have whenever they see each other again? He’ll hopefully remember how to be a father and Anura? She’ll be whatever she goddamn wants to be because that’s the type of woman she is.

But that’s the future. MacCready’s far more interested in the present, and maybe not telling her just how he feels, but at least damn well showing her.

So right now? They have tonight. And somehow that will be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end. Thank you so much for reading! :D


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